Never Never Land
by QueenBee7
Summary: AU. Klaine in Peter Pan world. Blaine doesn't want to grow up, and Kurt comes to this rescue. A tale of romance, adventure, and Kurt in green tights. M for later!
1. The Boy in Green

**A/N: Okay, so I'm stepping wayyy out of my comfort zone with this story, and I'm sort of nervous about it. I'm forcing myself to upload it now before I change my mind. Basically, it's Kurt and Blaine in Peter Pan world, with Kurt filling the role of Peter Pan. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I was make copies at work today and I was suddenly struck by the image of Kurt in a Peter Pan costume, and then my imagination just went into overdrive. So I thought I'd give it a try. I'll probably write a few chapters, and then if I like where it's headed, maybe I'll continue. I would really appreciate some honest feedback - is this the kind of story you guys would actually be interested in reading? Like I said, this isn't the type of story I usually write, so any comments would be much appreciated :). **

He had been appearing in Blaine's dreams a lot lately - a pale, elfin-looking boy dressed all in green. He had the most beautiful eyes Blaine had ever seen - a vivid blue-gray that somehow became something close to green towards the center. They seemed to twinkle of their own accord, as if always alight with laughter, or mischief, or both. Blaine was so utterly entranced by those eyes that they were what he spent the most time reflecting on, even when the dreams included fantastical things like flying or diving off of a waterfall or sailing through the sky aboard a golden ship.

"Blaine. _Blaine_. Are you even listening to me?"

Blaine blinked, looking up from where he had been staring at a bowl of soggy cereal. "Umm. Yes?" he said in an entirely unconvincing tone. He had not been listening to her, of course - his mind had been far away, thinking about the boy in green, who had made yet another appearance in his dreams the night before.

His mother sighed at him from across the kitchen table. "I just want you to remember, dear, that your meeting with the college counselor is today."

"I know, Mom," he replied, turning back to his cereal. His parents had not stopped talking about the meeting all week.

"And it's very important that you make a good impression, because these counselors have lots of pull, you know."

Blaine nodded.

"So just make sure to ask him about the schools we talked about, and find out what he thinks. Of course you're qualified, but any tips will be helpful. You know what they've been saying, the college application process gets more -"

"Competitive every year, yeah. I know." He'd heard her say it so many times that he had no problem finishing the sentence for her.

"Good." She glanced at her watch and stood up, straightening her impeccably tailored gray suit. "Alright, I have to get to work. Make sure you get to school on time; lateness doesn't look very impressive on your record." She planted a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Make us proud today, honey."

Blaine forced himself to return her smile, then watched her disappear out the side door. When he heard her car pull out of the driveway, he gave a sigh of relief. Finally, a few moments of peace. He pushed his cereal away and headed back to his bedroom, grabbing his guitar and plopping down on the bed. He strummed aimlessly, not playing anything in particular, just enjoying the calmness he always felt when he had a guitar in his hands.

His mind wandered back to the dream he had been reflecting on while he was supposed to be listening to his mother. In this one, they had been flying, hand-in-hand, doing flips and twists as they soared through the air. Blaine smiled at the memory - thinking about it was like remembering time spent with a beloved old friend. Indeed, the boy in green featured in Blaine's dreams so often nowadays that Blaine was beginning to think of him as a friend - a friend with beautiful eyes and kissable lips that Blaine definitely did _not _have a crush on, because having a crush on a figment of your imagination was just plain sad. He tended to appear in Blaine's dreams when Blaine was particularly stressed or worried about something, which of course explained why he had been popping up more and more frequently this year.

Ever since junior year had started a few months ago, Blaine felt as if he was _always_ stressed or worried about something. His classes were more difficult, SATs were fast approaching, and college applications were looming in the distance. Suddenly, all anyone seemed to care about was the future - where to go to college, what to major in, which career path to follow. And Blaine was apparently supposed to have answers to all of these questions, to know, at the age of 16, what kind of person he wanted to be and what he wanted to do with his life.

Of course, his parents already had it all planned out for him. A prestigious college, a well-paying job, a family, a vacation home in the Hamptons. Essentially, they wanted him to follow in their very respectable footsteps. They had never bothered to ask Blaine whether that was what _he_ wanted - because really, who wouldn't want all of that? Blaine sometimes wondered whether he was crazy for not wanting what his parents wanted for him. It was a comfortable life, to be sure - one that he had grown up reaping the benefits of. But it was also a life that he couldn't entirely picture himself living. There were things that he wanted more than an important job and a fancy house and a pretty wife. Things like playing his music for a live audience and living in a city and having a boyfriend. He just wasn't sure how to tell his parents that.

Actually, it wasn't really telling them that was the problem. It was getting them to really listen to what he was saying. They already knew he was gay - he'd told them two years ago and they'd been very nice about it, more so than he had expected. But he couldn't shake the feeling that they viewed it as some sort of phase he was going through that would eventually end with him marrying a woman. They also knew how much he loved music, but his father had made it perfectly clear that, while he admired Blaine's talent, a career as a musician was simply not a suitable option. And so Blaine had found himself more and more stressed and unhappy, working his ass off for a future he wasn't even sure he wanted.

The clock on Blaine's bedside table indicated that it was time to leave for school, and he put down his guitar reluctantly. He dreaded going to school these days, and today was even worse because of that stupid meeting with the college counselor. He was well-prepared for the meeting - his parents had seen to that - but he was nervous nonetheless. There was only one thing he really wanted to talk to the counselor about, but it was not part of the guidelines his parents had laid out for him, and he wasn't sure he would have the guts to bring it up.

Three hours of class did nothing to calm Blaine's nerves, even though he spent most of the time daydreaming about the boy in green. By the time he found himself sitting in the guidance office, staring across the desk at the college counselor, he was sick to his stomach. The office itself did not help matters - the walls were plastered with the names of impressive colleges that Dalton alums had gone to and pictures of men in business suits, looking very rich and important as they shook hands with their former teachers.

The meeting went more smoothly than Blaine had expected - he remembered all of the colleges he was supposed to list off, and the counselor was very friendly and helpful. Blaine felt that he would have been in very good shape if he had actually wanted to go to any of the colleges that they were discussing. Of course, the meeting did nothing to help him figure out where he might actually _want_ to go to school, but at least he would have good things to tell his parents.

It was only as the meeting was drawing to a close that Blaine finally got up the courage to ask the one thing he was dying to know. The counselor had kindly asked if he had any more questions, and Blaine, thinking of his guitar, had blurted out, "Do any of these schools happen to have good music programs?"

The counselor looked slightly puzzled by his question, and Blaine blushed, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. "None of them are really known for that, no," the counselor said. "Is that something that's very important to you?"

"I - no, I was just curious," Blaine lied, looking at the ground. He bade the counselor goodbye and rushed out of the office, feeling even more depressed than he had that morning.

At dinner that night, Blaine answered question after question about the meeting. His parents seemed pleased with his report of how it went until he made the mistake of mentioning that he had asked about music programs.

His father rubbed his face, looking irritated. "Come on, Blaine, not this again," he said.

"It's important to me, Dad," Blaine replied quietly.

"We've been through this. You have no future in music."

Blaine had heard the words many times before, but they stung nonetheless. He felt his temper rising. "What about what I want right now? Doesn't that matter too?"

"Of course it does, dear," his mother said consolingly.

"But not as much as your future," his father insisted, sounding angry now.

"All we ever talk about is the stupid future!" Blaine yelled, standing up. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up - normally when they had these conversations, he just nodded along and tried not to think too much about what his parents were saying. But the combination of the meeting today and the interrogation at dinner, not to mention months of stress, had finally become too much for him, and he could feel a breakdown coming. There was no stopping it now.

"Because it's the rest of your life, Blaine!" his father shouted, also getting to his feet. Mrs. Anderson remained seated, looking back and forth between her husband and her son with an expression of concern mingled with shock on her face. "You can't prance around playing that guitar and doing whatever the hell you want forever! You have to grow up some time!"

"I don't want to grow up!" Blaine screamed, angry tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He blinked them back furiously. "Not if being like you is what I have to look forward to!" And with that he turned on his heel and ran out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He flung himself on to his bed and sobbed, hating his parents and his life and most of all the future. He had meant what he said - he never wanted to grow up, he just wanted to stay young forever and never have to deal with being an adult and living in the real world.

He could hear his parents voices coming from the kitchen, and he was sure they were talking about him, but neither of them came to check on him. He probably should have felt sad that they couldn't be bothered to come see if he was alright, but he was really just grateful to be left alone. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep, hot tears still sliding down his cheeks.

As he slept, he dreamed about the boy in green again. He was holding Blaine's guitar and running, occasionally looking over his shoulder as if daring Blaine to follow. Blaine was running too, doing his best to catch up, but the boy was too fast for him. Blaine wanted to call out, to ask the boy where he was going and why he had Blaine's guitar, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. And then he tripped over a tree stump and went sprawling forwards, the ground rushing towards his face...

His eyes snapped open. He was not looking at the ground, thankfully, nor was he looking at his ceiling, as might have been expected. Instead, he was staring into a pair of familiar blue-green eyes, peering down at him curiously from an equally familiar elfin face.

**A/N: Okay, I'm nervous. Thoughts?**


	2. The Meeting

**A/N: Okay. So. Gah! I'm still sort of freaking out about this story, especially because I can see it starting to take shape in my head and it's a little overwhelming. However, I want to say thank you thank you THANK YOU to the people who reviewed/favorited/alerted. You are the reason I decided to continue this. I know this isn't a typical Klaine story, but I'm hoping you'll stick with me as I see how this whole thing unfolds. And please, _please_ (yes, I am shamelessly begging) review and let me know what you think - I've never written anything like this before, so I'm desperate for feedback. At the moment, I'm planning on writing a few more chapters of this and seeing how I feel about it and what the response is like, and then I'll decide where to go from there. So please review or message me or whatever so I know whether this is something people actually want to read! Okay sorry, now I will stop harassing you and just let you get to the story. **

Blaine closed his eyes and counted to ten, wondering if he was dreaming again. But when he opened his eyes, the boy in green, the one from his dreams, was still standing over him, looking intrigued and slightly guilty.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" the boy said.

"I - no," Blaine stammered, sitting up quickly and inching to the other side of his bed. As he backed away, he got a better view of the boy - he was lithe and fair with dark brown hair, atop of which perched a green cap with a red feather sticking out of it. He wore a short-sleeved tunic, belted at the waist, over forest green leggings, with moccasins on his feet. He was every bit as beautiful in real life as he had been in Blaine's dreams, which perhaps accounted for Blaine's reluctance to run screaming out of his room and alert his parents that a strange boy had suddenly appeared in his bedroom. That, and the fact that although they had never actually met in real life, Blaine still felt like he knew this boy.

"Oh. Good." The boy was looking around the room curiously, apparently unaware that it was rather rude to arrive in someone's bedroom in the middle of the night without offering any sort of explanation.

"Sorry but, uh, who are you?" Blaine said, having now reached the far side of his bed. It was a blunt question, but one he felt he had the right to ask given the current situation.

"Oh!" the boy said, his attention returning to Blaine. Blaine felt his heartbeat quicken slightly as those beautiful blue eyes fixed on him. "Sorry, I forgot. I'm Kurt. And you're Blaine, right?"

"Umm. Yeah," Blaine nodded, surprised. "How did you know?"

"I heard you fighting with your parents earlier," Kurt explained casually, as if listening in on people's private conversations with their parents was something he did on a regular basis. "That's why I'm here, actually."

"Oh." Blaine wondered whether he should be frightened, and whether any of this was supposed to make any sense at all to him. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask this boy, like _am I dreaming_ and _how did you hear me fighting with my parents_ and _how are you here if I was just dreaming about you_ and _what the hell is going on?_ Instead, he settled for, "Wait, what?" Not the most eloquent wording, perhaps, but it certainly summed up his current state of confusion.

"Well, didn't you say to you didn't want to grow up?" Kurt asked, looking completely unashamed that he had obviously been eavesdropping.

"I guess so, yeah."

"So that's pretty much a direct invitation for me to pay you a visit. Like putting a tooth under your pillow would be for the tooth fairy."

Blaine stared at him blankly, still feeling like he was missing something very important. "And why is that, exactly?"

"Well, I'm from Neverland, of course. And I'm here to take you back with me, if you want to go. Which it sounds like you do."

"You're from _Neverland_?" Blaine said incredulously. "Like Peter Pan?"

For the briefest of moments, something like pain seemed to flash across Kurt's face, but it very quickly dissolved into irritation. "Well sure, everyone knows about it because of _him_," Kurt scoffed. "But Peter doesn't even live there anymore. I took over for him a while ago." He drew himself up proudly.

Blaine felt overwhelmed by this news. He was still trying to make sense of the fact that a boy who, up until tonight, existed solely in his subconscience, had suddenly appeared in his bedroom. And now this boy - Kurt - was talking about Neverland like it was a real place and Peter freaking Pan like he had known him for years. This had to be a dream.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked, voicing his thoughts.

"Nope," Kurt said cheerfully.

"But Neverland - and _you_, I've seen you -" he paused, wondering if it would be strange to announce that he'd been dreaming about Kurt for months. But then again, everything about this situation was strange. Very, very strange.

"In your dreams?" Kurt finished the sentence for him.

"Yeah," Blaine admitted, torn between sheepishness and wonderment at how much Kurt seemed to know about him.

"Yeah, that happens a lot when people are really worried about growing up. It's less often that I actually hear someone say it out loud, though, like you did."

"How did you even hear that?" Blaine asked suspiciously.

Kurt flushed slightly and looked away. "I was just, uh, passing by."

Blaine felt that this was a vague, and perhaps not entirely truthful, answer - passing by on his way to where? - but he let it slide because there were far too many other things he wanted to ask. "So did you say you've come to take me _with_ you? To Neverland?"

Kurt nodded. "If you want to go, yes."

"I can't just _leave_," Blaine said, more to himself than Kurt.

"Why not?"

Blaine was surprised when he found it difficult to answer that question. "Well -" he fumbled. "I have school, and my parents..."

"Both of which have you on a fast-track to being an adult, which you clearly don't want."

"Well..." Blaine thought about this for a moment, possessed by some inexplicable need to defend the parts of his life that were making him most unhappy. But then he remembered the college meeting and the fight with his parents, and he realized Kurt was right. "Yeah," he sighed.

"So then what's the point of staying?" Kurt was staring at Blaine intently, daring him to argue. "Get out while you can. In Neverland, you don't have to grow up. You don't have to worry about the future. You just get to live your life the way _you_ want to live it."

Blaine swallowed. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted? The chance to be free of pressure, of expectations, of everyone's constant obsession with preparing for the future? Kurt was offering him the opportunity to live in the present, to focus on the now. Hadn't that been what he was yelling at his father about just a few hours ago?

"I know it's a lot," Kurt said kindly, evidently sensing Blaine's inner turmoil. "But just think about it - never having to grow up. You'd be _free_, Blaine."

Blaine nodded. Oh God, was he seriously thinking about doing this? "So - just say, hypothetically, I decided to go. How would we get to - to Neverland?"

Kurt smiled. "We'd fly, of course."

"_Fly_?" Blaine gaped at him.

"Well yeah, there's no other way to get there," Kurt said matter-of-factly. Then he noticed Blaine's shocked expression. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You can't fly, can you?"

"Umm, no." This was certainly the first time he had been asked _that_ question. "Can _you_?"

"Of course," Kurt laughed. And then, very suddenly, he was sitting cross-legged in the air next to Blaine's bed. "See?"

Blaine's jaw dropped. He had never seen anything like it. Kurt wasn't flying so much as he was _floating_. He didn't seem to be exerting any effort at all - he simply hovered there, apparently weightless, sitting in the air as if there were an invisible chair beneath him. It was remarkable.

Kurt laughed again at Blaine's reaction, and this time Blaine noticed the beauty of the sound, sweet and pure and filled with merriment. It made his heart skip a beat, and the thought briefly crossed his mind that it might be worth going to Neverland just to hear Kurt laughing like that all the time.

"Okay, so _you _can fly," Blaine said once he had adjusted to the shock of seeing Kurt suspended in midair. "But what am I going to do?"

"Luckily, I have just the solution to that problem," Kurt replied. He glanced around the room as if looking for something. "Mercedes, Tina, where'd you go?" His gaze fell on Blaine's dresser, and he rolled his eyes. Blaine followed his line of vision and was surprised to see what at first appeared to be two small balls of light hovering in front of his mirror. Upon closer examination, he saw that they were in fact two very tiny girls, both with delicate wings sprouting out of their backs - fairies, he assumed. The one with darker skin was twirling around in front of the mirror, striking poses and clearly admiring herself. The other, much fairer, was perched on a bottle of his hair gel, shaking with silent laughter as she watched her friend.

"Oh, for the love of God, get away from the mirror," Kurt said in exasperation. Turning to Blaine, he added, "we don't have them at home, so they get a bit distracted whenever we come across one." He shook his head, half amused, half annoyed. "Come _on_, girls."

The darker skinned fairy struck a last pose, and then they both zoomed over to Kurt, coming to a halt in the air on either side of his head. "Girls, this is Blaine. Blaine, meet Mercedes and Tina."

Blaine smiled uncertainly, wondering what the proper etiquette was when being introduced to a fairy. Surely he wasn't supposed to shake their hands? He settled for an awkward wave, which was returned with great enthusiasm by Mercedes, the darker of the two, and also, albeit more shyly, by Tina.

"I think a bit of fairy dust will do the trick," Kurt said thoughtfully, looking back and forth between the two fairies. "You know what to do." They nodded and zipped over to Blaine, who watched in awe as they circled around his head, a fine, yellowish powder falling from their fluttering wings. When they had finished, they returned to their posts on either side of Kurt.

Blaine examined the layer of fairy dust that was now coating much of his upper body. He had half-expected to find himself floating in midair the moment the dust touched his skin, but alas, he remained seated on his bed, apparently still subject to the laws of gravity. He briefly contemplated flapping his arms, but decided against it, thinking that would look foolish. "So... now what?" he asked, looking up at Kurt.

"Think of something happy," Kurt instructed. "And just... believe that you can do it. It might help if you close your eyes."

"Okay..." Blaine shut his eyes and cast around for something happy to think about. Certainly not his parents, school, or college - not even his friends had been making him particularly happy lately. He settled on music, particularly his guitar, remembering the peace he felt whenever he played. Focusing very hard, he willed himself to be weightless, to simply rise up into the air and stay there. Nothing happened. He sighed in frustration, opening his eyes.

"Maybe I can help," Kurt said, drifting forward and extending his hands. Blaine took them tentatively, praying Kurt couldn't hear the way his heartbeat had suddenly picked up. "Okay, now focus really, really hard this time. Make it the happiest thing you can think of. And trust me." He squeezed Blaine's hands lightly. "You can do this."

Blaine nodded, closing his eyes again. This time, he focused on the feeling of Kurt's hands, so soft compared to his own. He reflected on the dreams he had had about Kurt, dreams where they flew together, hand-in-hand, beautiful landscapes rushing by beneath them. He thought about actually getting to live that dream, and his heart soared at the thought. And then he heard Kurt make a noise of triumphant approval, followed by the soft pattering of clapping fairy hands. Opening his eyes, he found himself floating above his bed. He was so startled that he promptly fell out of the air, landing on his pillow with a soft thump.

"You did it!" Kurt said with a laugh, reaching for Blaine's hand again. "Come on, try again."

Blace accepted his hand eagerly, conjuring up the same images that had worked so well for him last time, and before he knew it, he was suspended in midair once more. Kurt clapped his hands together in excitement. "Try flying around a bit," he suggested. He spread his arms and glided in a circle around Blaine's room, demonstrating. Blaine mimicked his posture, pushing uselessly at the air in an effort to propel himself forward. He wasn't sure how he did it, and he certainly did not look as graceful as Kurt, but he somehow managed to make an airborne lap around his bedroom. He practiced it a few more times until he felt he was getting the hang of it.

"Wow," he said, awed. He was _flying_.

"So now that that's all taken care of, are you ready to go?" Kurt asked, doing a nonchalant midair flip before flying over to Blaine's bedroom window.

"Wait, I haven't said I'm going yet."

Kurt sighed, crossing his arms as he hovered by the window. "What's holding you back?"

"What will my parents think when they wake up and see I'm gone? They'll freak out."

Kurt shook his head. "No they won't. Time works differently in Neverland. If you ever decide to come back, you'll arrive back in this exact moment. No time will have passed. The rules are a little different for me, of course, but that's how it will work for you."

Blaine stared at Kurt and the open window behind him, weighing his options. He could say no, tell Kurt to leave, and go back to bed. He would wake up tomorrow and convince himself that this was all a dream. And then he would slip back into the exact same routine, going to school, doing his homework, listening silently as his parents and teachers and friends went on and on about the future. It was not a particularly appealing option, but it was certainly the safe one. The whole idea of going gallivanting off to _Neverland_ with a boy he barely knew was absolutely ludicrous, not to mention completely irresponsible.

But it was also so very, very tempting. If fairies from Neverland had already provided him with the ability to fly - oh God, he had forgotten he was still flying - he could only imagine what other wonders this far-off land might have in store. And it would give him the chance to literally stop time, to shirk responsibility and embrace his freedom. Perhaps most importantly, he would get to do all of this with Kurt at his side, laughing that gleeful laugh and looking at him with those amazing eyes. The thought gave him butterflies.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt said softly, stretching out a hand.

It was a rash decision, Blaine knew. He had not thought it through nearly enough. He was still completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of new information he had received tonight, and his judgment was clouded by the presence of Kurt and the anger he still felt regarding his argument with his father.

But his mind was made up.

He grabbed his guitar and threw it over his shoulder, then flew forward and grasped Kurt's extended hand.

Kurt beamed at him. "Here we go!" he cried.

And they sailed out of Blaine's window together.

**TBC... Thanks for reading!**


	3. Never Land

**A/N: Hello! I have a lot of things to say here, so bear with me. First of all, let me just apologize for how obscenely long it has taken me to update this story. Would you believe me if I told you I've actually been working on this chapter since last August? Talk about writer's block... I had really almost given up on it until I got a couple of amazing reviews/messages from supportive readers, and those inspired me to give it another try. So this chapter (and this whole story, frankly), is for those of you who have given me such kind, wonderful encouragement. I hope that I can give you a story that lives up to your expectations. I do have the story, and particularly the next chapter, loosely mapped out, although given how much trouble I had writing this one I can't make any promises about the next update, but I really will try to make it soon(ish). Again, thank you SO MUCH for sticking with me. It means a lot. Also, a small warning: things get a little bit darker in this chapter. Nothing too serious, but it does hint at some of what is to come. Just keep that in mind as you read. And I promise there will be lots of fluffy (and smutty) loveliness to offset the bad stuff!**

**Okay, enough from me. Read on!**

* * *

><p>Flying around the bedroom had been remarkable, but flying outside was absolutely surreal. The fairies led the way as they soared through the cool night air, the moonlight soft on their faces. The sky was a velvety violet-blue, dotted with pinprick stars and layered with barely-there wisps of clouds. Everything looked so much more beautiful from up here - so clear, so vivid, so tangible. It was like being part of another world entirely.<p>

Blaine almost fell out of the sky when he looked down for the first time and saw the ground far beneath them, landscape rushing past. Fortunately, Kurt caught his hand and tugged him back up, and the softness of Kurt's hand in his perhaps accounted for the mysterious rapidity with which Blaine recovered from the fright of nearly falling to his death. Their fingers remained laced for the remainder of the trip, and if Blaine hadn't been so busy trying to stop himself from blushing, he might have noticed that there was a faint pink flush staining Kurt's cheeks as well.

"That's it up there," Kurt said after a while, pointing with his free hand to a bright light in the distance. "Second star on the right and straight on til morning."

Blaine nodded, suddenly feeling a little nervous as he remembered that he still had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into. Here he was flying (flying!) off to some magical land with a boy dressed like an elf (who, up until recently, he had assumed to be a figment of his imagination) and a pair of fairies, one of whom apparently had a bit of a diva complex. Either he had actually gone crazy and was starting to have hallucinations, or the world was a far more fantastical place than he had once thought.

Perhaps Kurt had noticed that Blaine was having a minor freak-out, because he caught Blaine's eye and gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Blaine smiled back shyly as his nervousness subsided. Maybe he was being foolish, but somehow, he felt that as long as he was with Kurt, everything would be okay. He was safe.

They flew on, drawing nearer and nearer to the star until - and Blaine wasn't quite sure when or how it happened - everything around them was light and they were hovering in the air above a small island. With the exception of white sand and stone around the edges, it was almost entirely covered in green foliage, most of which appeared to be thick, towering trees. Several tall mountains loomed in the distance, partially shrouded by thick gray fog and low-hanging clouds. The island curved inward in a few places, creating two coves - one was flecked with jutting rocks and surrounded by steep cliffs, while the other, the larger of the two, was calm and empty save for a large sailing ship.

"Welcome to Never Land!" Kurt said proudly, sweeping an arm over the island.

"Thanks," Blaine replied, eyeing the ship curiously and wondering who it could possibly belong to and what it was doing _here_. "Hey, Kurt - "

He was cut off when Kurt tugged his hand hard and rocketed off in the direction of a thickly wooded area towards the center of the island, the fairies flitting along just a few feet ahead. Blaine clutched Kurt's hand tightly and did his best to keep up, blinking back tears as wind whipped against his face and scenery flew past him in a blur of bluegreenbrown. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Once they had crashed through the canopy of the trees, Kurt slowed considerably, releasing Blaine's hand (to Blaine's great disappointment) and drifting along at a leisurely place. He seemed remarkably unscathed by their nosedive into the forest, whereas Blaine's face and arms were already stinging from the places the branches had scratched him. When Kurt noticed this, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Oh God, you're bleeding," he said, floating closer to Blaine to examine the damage. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Blaine said, determinedly fighting down the flush that was threatening to rise in his cheeks at his proximity to Kurt.

"There's stuff we can put on it when we get back to Hangman's Tree - where I live," Kurt clarified when Blaine looked confused.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sorry, sometimes I forget that other people don't have as much practice with this sort of thing," Kurt explained, putting a reasonable space between them again as they resumed their progress through the trees. The fairies darted along a bit ahead of them, two small balls of yellow light in a mass of green and brown.

"Plummeting into densely wooded areas, you mean? Yeah, I don't get much of that in Ohio."

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, I guess not."

"So what was that all about, then?" Blaine asked, tugging his sleeve free as it caught on another branch.

"Oh, it's nothing," Kurt said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just - Hook, the captain of that ship in the cove. I prefer that he doesn't see when I come and go from Never Land. Or who I bring with me."

"Do you not get along?" Blaine asked curiously.

"You could say that," Kurt nodded. "He likes to give me a hard time. I always return the favor, though." He glanced over at Blaine. "It's nothing to worry about. I'll explain more another time."

Blaine sensed from Kurt's tone that the story was perhaps more sinister than he was letting on, but he decided to let the subject drop for now. They'd only just arrived, after all - he didn't want to push things.

"Hear that?" Kurt said suddenly, swooping low to avoid a branch even though he was now flying backwards, facing Blaine, and apparently not paying any attention to where he was going.

"What?" Blaine asked, but even as the words left his mouth, he realized what Kurt was referring to. Far in the distance, but growing louder as they traveled further into the forest, Blaine could hear what sounded like faint strains of music. "What is that?"

"The Lost Boys," Kurt replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. "My fellow Hangman's Tree inhabitants. It sounds like they're having a jam session."

It did indeed. The music was getting louder with each passing moment, and now Blaine could make out distinct voices and instruments. They sounded joyful and casual but also very good. It was exactly the way he liked to play music - collaborating, experimenting, and having fun.

A few minutes later, he and Kurt emerged into a clearing, at the center of which stood a gnarled old tree that Blaine imagined had to be Hangman's Tree. Five or so boys were scattered over the tree's branches, all singing and clearly engrossed in their jam session. A tall, slightly confused-looking brunette was straddling one branch, using what appeared to be roughly hewn drumsticks to bang out a rhythm on the bark. A blond boy with full lips and another with a mohawk were both strumming on guitars; the mohawked one was lying on his back on a particularly thick branch, while the blond one was propped up against the tree. A skinny Asian boy was busting some serious moves on another branch, while a slighter, bespectacled brunette sat beside him, apparently leading the group in singing.

Blaine watched them in awe until the drummer happened to look up and notice their presence. "Hey, Kurt!" he cried, grinning goofily and raising an arm to wave.

The music stopped as the other boys glanced over and shouted out greetings.

"Come on," Kurt said quietly, grabbing Blaine's hand again and drawing him further into the clearing. "Hey, guys," he called.

"Who's your friend?" Finn asked, eyeing Blaine curiously. Blaine could tell the other boys were staring at him as well, and it made him nervous. He hadn't really considered the fact that there would be other people besides Kurt in Neverland, although now it seemed like a rather obvious thing to have missed.

"This is Blaine," Kurt explained, pushing Blaine forward slightly. "Blaine, meet the Lost Boys: Sam, Puck, Mike, Artie, and my brother Finn."

They all smiled and waved, and Finn extended a hand, which Blaine shook nervously. A brother?

"Blaine's going to stay with us for a while," Kurt said. "I hope," he added, glancing over at Blaine and smiling tentatively.

"I hope so too," Blaine agreed, eyes lingering on Kurt's for a bit longer than was probably appropriate. When he finally forced himself to look away, he noticed Mike watching him with slightly raised eyebrows and an amused expression on his face. He blushed, but luckily, the other boys seemed to have been distracted by other things.

"Dude, you're all cut up," Finn said, observing the scratches covering Blaine's face and arms.

"That's my fault," Kurt said guiltily. "Come on, let's go clean those up now. As you were, gentlemen."

"Good meeting you, man," Finn called out as Kurt led Blaine towards an entrance into the tree.

"You too!" Blaine replied, following Kurt through the entrance and smiling to himself as he heard the music pick up once more.

"They seem cool," Blaine said as they made their down a winding set of steps. He was on his feet again, but he noticed that Kurt still hovered just above the ground.

"They drive me crazy at times, but they're pretty great," Kurt said, leading Blaine across a large room filled with hammocks. "This is where they sleep," he explained. "You can take any free hammock." He pushed aside a curtain hanging on the wall to reveal a smaller room, this one outfited with a single hammock. "And this is my room," he explained, ushering Blaine through the entrance. "Just sit down and I'll get the ointment for those scratches."

After a bit of awkward maneuvering, Blaine managed to situate himself on the hammock without falling off, a feat he was very proud of until Kurt flew over and gracefully settled himself beside Blaine.

"Here, let me see," Kurt said, unscrewing a small jar and dipping his fingers into a clear ointment. "It comes from a flower that grows around here. It'll help."

Blaine nodded, shifting in the hammock so that he was facing Kurt. He tried to keep his breathing even as Kurt reached forward and dabbed gently at his face.

"So, the Lost Boys. Did you find them, too?" Blaine asked.

"I found Puck, Mike, and Sam," Kurt said, his brow furrowing in concentration as he swiped a finger under Blaine's left eye. "Puck was failing out of high school and just couldn't get his head around the responsibilities of being an adult, so he was thrilled to come. Sam had had to drop out of high school and get a job because of his family's money problems, and it was all just too much for him. He was being forced two grow up too early and he wasn't ready for it. And Mike - he wanted to be a dancer but his dad was trying to get him to go to school for law or medicine or something. He knew he was going to be miserable so he came here instead."

"Sounds familiar," Blaine said, reflecting back on his own problems with his father. He would have to talk to Mike about that some time, once they knew each other better.

"I know," Kurt said, meeting Blaine's eyes for a moment before turning his attention to the scratches on Blaine's arm. "I'm glad you decided to come with me."

"Me too." He shivered slightly as Kurt's fingers trailed softly over the inside of his wrist.

"Oh God, did I hurt you?" Kurt said, dropping Blaine's arm and looking up in concern.

Blaine blushed. "No, I just - no. I'm fine," he stammered. "Sorry."

"Tell me if I hurt you, okay?" Kurt insisted, resuming his work.

Blaine nodded, willing himself to focus on things other than the feel of Kurt's fingers against his skin. "So, what about you and Finn and Artie?"

Kurt considered for a while before answering. "Peter found Artie a few months after I got here," he said finally. "He was in a wheelchair at home, but here, with the fairy dust, he can fly like the rest of us. I doubt he'll ever go back. And Finn and I..." he paused, and Blaine thought he saw traces of that same expression that had flitted across Kurt's face when he first mentioned Peter's name. "Finn and I were foster brothers who were about to get kicked out of our foster home. We were nearly 18 and had no money, no jobs, nowhere to go - Peter turned up and honestly it wasn't even a decision. I spent my whole childhood bearing the burdens of an adult, and I'd had enough. So I came here and never looked back."

"I'm sorry," Blaine breathed. "That you had to go through that, I mean."

Their eyes locked again, and Blaine suddenly became very aware of how close he was to Kurt's lips. For a moment, he wondered whether Kurt had noticed it too, but then he was rising off of the hammock and replacing the jar of ointment on the shelf from which it had come.

"It's alright," Kurt said, turning to face Blaine again and shaking his head. "I'm much happier now. I hope you will be too."

* * *

><p>Not so far away, in the calmer of the two coves Blaine had seen from the air, two men stood at the bow of the sailing ship, conversing in low voices.<p>

"They went for cover quickly," the bulkier of the two men said, eyeing the spot in the forest that Kurt and the newcomer had disappeared into just a few minutes before.

"Indeed," the other man agreed, adjusting the cuff of his left sleeve around the shining silver hook that protruded from it. "Clearly, Kurt didn't want to be seen. Or rather, he didn't want the boy to be seen."

"Seems odd. Normally he enjoys a bit of a show."

"He knows me well," Hook said, smirking slightly.

"How do you mean, Captain?" the bulky man asked.

"He knows my tastes. The boy is very attractive. Wouldn't you agree, Karofsky?"

"I - yes, Captain."

Hook smiled. "I should very much like to make his acquaintance."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you so much for reading! I will now take this opportunity to beg for any kind of feedback. Especially with this story, it is appeciated enormously. **


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